Cerella Sechrist - Gentle Persuasion

But to be held in such a way...wasn’t that every girl’s dream?

As the embrace lingered, Ophelia felt embarrassed for intruding. Straightening, she began to head back toward the stairs but stubbed her toe on the edge of a cabinet, causing her to hop around and bite back a string of curses. By the time she regained her balance, the front door had eased open, and the girl she’d been spying on stood before her. For a moment, they simply stared at each other in surprise.

Ophelia rubbed her opposite foot over her smarting toe. “Sorry,” she apologized.

“For what?” the girl asked.

“Um...” Ophelia trailed off, reluctant to admit she’d been watching the younger woman’s midnight tryst.

“Are you a guest?” The girl stepped forward, and Ophelia could only nod in acknowledgment. The younger woman’s face split into a beaming smile featuring even white teeth against the backdrop of her smooth, sun-kissed complexion. “Aloha, I’m Leilani.” She extended a hand. “I’m in charge of reception, events and bookings.”

Though the words were spoken softly in deference to the late hour, Ophelia noted the pride in them. She relaxed at the friendly introduction.

“Ophelia Reid,” she said in equally hushed tones and inserted her hand into Leilani’s. “I flew in from New York this morning. I’m booked in the Liliuokalani suite for the week.”

“Oh, yeah.” Leilani’s head bobbed, her long, dark hair swishing forward with the movement. “You booked at the last minute, right? Something about unexpected travel plans?”

Ophelia licked her lips, uncertain how much she should reveal to one of Dane’s employees. “Well, um...yes. My assistant would have been the one to make all the arrangements.”

Leilani’s eyes widened. “Oh. Your assistant?”

“It’s a long story.”

Leilani cocked her head with curiosity, studying Ophelia. “Have you eaten?” she questioned at last.

Ophelia’s stomach growled right on cue. She frowned apologetically. “I fell asleep for a few hours. The time difference and all.”

Leilani waved a hand as if this happened all the time.

“I suppose I could drive down to the coast,” Ophelia considered. “Surely there’s got to be some late-night diners open or something.”

Now Leilani was shaking her head. She reached out to grab Ophelia’s hand, dragging her along as she spoke in whispers. “I’m starving! We’ll raid the fridge together. That way, if we get caught, I can tell them you forced me into it.”

Ophelia couldn’t help grinning at this girl’s friendliness.

“But there’s one condition.” Leilani halted and turned to face her. “You can’t tell my tutu or Dane that I got in so late.”

“Tutu?”

“My grandmother,” Leilani explained.

“Oh.” Ophelia considered her. “Are you breaking your curfew? I did that a time or two myself back in high school.” Never any more than that, though. She dared not risk it and upset her mother.

“I’m almost nineteen,” Leilani said, “but after everything that happened last year, I still get treated like I’m a toddler sometimes. Especially by my tutu.”

Leilani released Ophelia’s hand and led her through a doorway, flicking on lights to reveal the interior of the inn’s kitchen. When Leilani began speaking once more, her voice was soft but not nearly so hushed as before.

“Dane’s not so bad—he trusts me. But Tutu still worries.”

“Your grandmother...er, your tutu, is...” Ophelia prompted.

“Oh, Pele. The housekeeper and cook? You probably met her already. You’d remember if you had.”

Ophelia grimaced at the recollection of the short, feisty woman. “Yes. I know what you mean.”

Leilani nodded, her expression serious despite the humor in Ophelia’s tone. “I got into some pretty bad stuff a year ago. I cleaned up my act but grandmas...you know how they are.”

Ophelia bit her lip and didn’t say anything. Her paternal grandparents had been gone long before she was born, and she had never gotten to spend much time with her maternal ones before they passed away during her college years. Her mother had avoided visits with them as much as possible.

Leilani seemed not to notice Ophelia’s silence as she turned and opened the fridge door to begin rummaging inside.

“Do you like huli huli chicken?” she asked from within the recesses of the refrigerator.

“I’m sorry—what?”

Leilani emerged holding several containers. “Huli huli chicken?”

“I don’t know what that is.”

“Oh, um...I guess it’s sort of like barbecue chicken but with ginger, soy sauce, brown sugar, you know.”

Another rumble in Ophelia’s stomach settled the matter for her. “I’d love to try it.”

Leilani nodded with a grin and continued to pull containers from the fridge, announcing their contents as she placed them on the kitchen island.

“Mango bread, huli huli chicken, steamed rice with pineapple, roasted sweet potatoes...”

Ophelia began peeling lids off the dishes. “Sounds like a feast.”

“Tutu may be a little prickly sometimes, but her food is pure sweetness.”

Inhaling the fragrant scents of soy, spice and sugar, Ophelia didn’t argue this statement. Leilani opened cupboards and pulled forth plates and glasses. Placing them on the kitchen island, she gathered utensils and began spooning out generous helpings of the leftovers.

“How are you enjoying Hawai’i?” the younger girl asked conversationally.

Ophelia noticed she pronounced her homeland’s name with the appropriate accent. It was a pleasant sound.

“It’s beautiful. An island paradise. But I haven’t even been here twenty-four hours, so I can’t say I’ve experienced much.”

“Except Tutu’s hospitality?” Leilani smirked as she slid a plate of food into the microwave above the stove to heat it.

“Is she always so...”

“Outspoken? Usually.” Leilani shrugged. “But she’s been touchy lately. Things are...tense.”

Ophelia straightened with interest. “Oh?”

“Yeah. The inn and plantation are experiencing financial issues. When Dane bought the property, it had fallen into pretty bad disrepair. He sank all of his savings into the renovations and roasting equipment, and he hasn’t been able to recoup his investment.”

Ophelia mulled over this new information. “Any new venture takes time to turn a profit,” she remarked.

“That’s what Dane tells Tutu to keep her from worrying. But it’s not hard to tell that he’s worried, too.”

The microwave emitted a series of beeps, and Leilani swapped out one plate for another. She turned to face Ophelia once more.

“So you should feel good, knowing your stay here contributes to a worthy cause.” She winked pleasantly, and Ophelia felt the sting of guilt.

“It’s a lovely inn, and I’m happy my stay will provide a bit of income. Only...”

Leilani placed the first warmed plate of food on the table and gestured for Ophelia to take a seat. Carrying her glass and a set of flatware with her, she settled at the teak table.

“Only?”

“Only, I’m afraid you’ve been nothing but sweet and open with me, and you’ll likely not appreciate my reasons for coming here in the first place.”

Leilani considered her for several seconds, and Ophelia left the plate of food untouched as they stared at each other. Eventually, the microwave’s beeping broke the silence.

“You’re one of them, aren’t you?” Leilani made no move toward the microwave.

“Them?”

“From Dane’s past. From New York.”

“No, not exactly. I mean, yes, I’m from New York. But I just met your boss this morning. I knew him by his reputation in the corporate world, but we never laid eyes on each other before today.”